


Violent and Obscene

by EmthelRackem



Category: Great Gatsby - F. Scott Fitzgerald
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Drinking, Gen, Party, Violence, nick is very sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-17
Updated: 2019-10-17
Packaged: 2020-12-20 23:50:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21065249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmthelRackem/pseuds/EmthelRackem
Summary: Nick claims the details of the party in the apartment are too dim to recall properly, but really, he just wants to forget them.





	Violent and Obscene

Entering into the New York apartment is like walking into a separate world. There are no tall ceilings or large windows panes or vast open spaces as Nick had come to expect when Tom was around, but instead, there was a small cramped room. Everyone’s existence was centred into this tiny space, and as soon as one had left they were promptly forgotten.

The girls danced around the space, fluttering here and there with no sense of direction. Tom sat in a corner, a harsh statue sipping at whiskey while they ran about. They puffed and preened and pranced as if trying to entice even though there were only three men in the room.

Nick found it quite uncomfortable.

He had scrunched himself into a small corner, ready to ignore the world around him and continue reading Simon Called Peter, no matter how odd it was written. From the dim hazy cast of being drunk, he saw Catherine and Mrs McKee roaming the room, searching for a drink or a fun time. They would laugh whenever they felt like it, whether a joke had been told or not, and each time Nick would scrunch up his nose in faint distaste, an automatic reaction to the upsetting noise. The sound was brutal and harsh, the trill echoing in your skull like a bomb. It wasn’t pleasant.

They emptied bottle after bottle after bottle, calling for more and more in a display of infinite greed. Nick, so intent on not judging, said nothing even as the night raced on into an inevitable crash. Well, the crashing came quite soon as bottles flew in arcs across the room, landing in a broken heap on the floor. Deflated, like Nick’s mood.

Myrtle and Tom went off together for the second time that night. Nick, from his chair in the corner of the room, watched them go. Unlike the hosts back home, they left their guests whenever they wished, ruled by primal desires and mostly ignorant of those around them, only noticing when they wished to be noticed in return.

When the relative drink induced quiet settled over the room, Nick thought. His book was long since discarded, his drink was empty and the glass in pieces across the room from one of the girl’s games. It wasn’t nice. Nothing about this was nice. It was brutal and brash and harsh, with the breeze cutting through the room but not managing to cool tempers that were quickly rising as the bottle pile grew.

In a moment of quiet, he looked over to Mr McKee, sitting silently in his own chair. Silent because he was asleep. On his chin rested the smear of shaving cream, pale and stark against his skin. It stood out on his face, but fit into the ruined remains of the room.

Nick went over to it, bringing out a handkerchief and wiping it away in a soft slow motion. For a second, Nick had fixed something, a part of this night was clean once again. Nick was tired. He was tired of the tittering, the laughter, the night that seemed to race by yet never ended. This one apartment held so much in it, so many colours and sound and lights. So much variety caged in one tiny room, like a snow globe that never stopped being shaken.

Suddenly, Nick wanted to weep. He wanted to leave.

This night filled with such horrible noises and such horrible people was such a horrible mess and he wanted to leave. When Tom hit Myrtle’s nose, the blow sending blood sparkling across the room like shimmery streamers, cutting off her ever-growing cries of “Daisy!”, he felt sick. He had to leave. Everything here was violent and obscene. He followed Mr McKee out into the night, sorrow and pain in his heart, like it too had been hit by Tom’s flailing hand.

Nick thought it was the worst party he had ever been to.

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for an English Assignment, so there are direct quotes from the book. As always, I don't own anything. Hope you enjoyed!


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